


Ficlet Friday Ask: MorMor Rescue

by LegoLock



Series: Friday Ficlets [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2015-05-15
Packaged: 2018-03-30 17:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3946201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegoLock/pseuds/LegoLock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friday Ficlet Ask: "Hurt/comfort MorMor please. Sebastian is kidnapped and Jim must save him"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ficlet Friday Ask: MorMor Rescue

When Sebastian had joined Jim, he’d been on the run…in a sense. He’d run away from another similar shadow organization…which was an unforgivable thing as far as they were concerned.

But Jim had offered the one thing they had not. 

A relationship.

Jim Moriarty was a madman…yes, but his demons played perfectly well with Sebastian’s. He’d never told Jim about his betrayal, he thought he’d been clever enough and covered his tracks.

Sebastian Moran should have known better.

He certainly knew now, hanging from his wrists in the dark (mostly due to the hood over his head, which was smothering him and foul smelling at that point), dank, place he’d been moved to, yet again. All the moving made it feel like they were running, Sebastian just figured they were trying to get him back home for a proper execution. 

He didn’t know how long it had been…long enough to know that if he escaped alive he’d need a new size of clothes. (Realistically, the sniper knew there was no getting out of this…even without broken fingers and steel wire wrapped around his wrists. His hands had long since gone numb.)

They’d mercifully left him alone, yet again, to wallow in his pain. Even though his body screamed murder with every ragged, tortured, breath around the thick cloth bisecting his mouth like a bit…the greatest pain Sebastian felt was for Jim.

He’d never see him again. That hurt more than any of the bloody wounds or burns, or broken bones…knowing he’d never feel Jim’s hand in his again, or see the sparkle of joy when Sebastian ruthlessly murdered before his eyes…the adoration. The love…he’d miss it.

The barest swoosh of air was all the warning Sebastian received before a pipe was mercilessly slammed across his back. He didn’t hold back the muffled outcry of pain…hearing it echo around the room as usual.

“Traitorous pig.” 

Another brutal hit…but as Sebastian’s shout echoed…he heard another sound. The sound of a personalized handgun, a Beretta 92FS to be exact, being cocked.

“That’s mine.” Jim Moriarty’s voice was darker than Sebastian had ever through possible, shaking with rage, “And I’ll be taking it back…”

* * *

**Two weeks, three days, seven hours, and fifty-six minutes ago…**

The last time Jim had physically seen Sebastian just before he’d gone off on a mission.

_A soft kiss and a promise to call…_

**Two weeks, two days, seven hours, and fifty-six minutes ago…**

The last time he’d seen Sebastian via video call. 

_He’d been bloody and battered then and masked men had him surrounded. They made no ransom demands. No requests…they just showed Jim his sniper._

_“Just taking back what’s mine.” One had leered before stopping the call._

**Two weeks, two days, seven hours, and fifty-six minutes ago…** Jim Moriarty had started a man hunt like no other.

He’d left his criminal web without explanation or warning and finally tracked down the idiots that thought they could take Moran from him. Small and alone as Jim Moriarty was…harmless he was not.

The near shack of a safe house was one of only many he’d found on his search, each time he knew he was that much closer. Warmer fires…fresher blood.

Finally. He had them. A shack in the cold wilderness of Siberia, cliched. He didn’t care. Storming right in and gunning down the first two men before anyone noticed they were under attack.

Five quick shots and Jim was moving on…heading towards the sounds of his Sebastian screaming in pain. He’d crept in, walked right up behind the man with the pipe, and placed the hot end of the barrel to the back of his skull. The man froze, Jim knew he was thinking how did he not hear the shots?

Silencers were wonderful things.

So was the element of surprise.

“That’s mine. And I’ll be taking it back…” The softest pressure on the trigger sent the man down with a near silent pop from his pistol.

Only then…did Jim turn his eyes on Sebastian. It took all his will power not to break down at the state of his sniper. Beaten…battered…but alive. Jim said nothing, finding a chair and some wire cutters so he could cut Sebastian down. 

Unfortunately, Sebastian did fall, but Jim tried to catch him. All he managed was to have the heavier, taller, man land on top of him instead of just outright hitting the floor. 

In a handful of seconds, he had the hood and gag away from Sebastian’s head, tossing them so he could gently cradle the man’s face. Sebastian blinked up at him, pale, thin, but alive.

“S-sorry…didn’t…call…b-boss.”

Jim felt a chuckle, turned sob, break in his throat as he kissed the ban’s brow carefully, like he might break, “Sh-shut up.”

“Yes Sir.” Sebastian murmured, wrapping leaden arms around the small, shaking, man that had just stormed in to save him. “Thanks…”

“Don’t thank me yet…I still have to get you home…”


End file.
